"You make a series of incisions into the pork, and then season it afterwards. Makes it more flavourful," Fei Hu explains, as Majima watches him dice up the food with the same precision and intricacy that he wields every one of his exotic rare weapons in their training sessions.

It's been a long day, almost eight hours straight of working at both Sunshine and the Grand, so Majima doesn't quite have the correct filter, and muses bluntly, "Wonder if my skin'd taste'a chillis by this point." He remembers vaguely, the pain of that torture, down in the Hole.

Fei Hu's knife stills and his gaze comes up to rest on his eyepatch. They don't talk about the origin of their scars, though, so he simply takes a handful of diced garlic and presses it into the meat, a sadness permeating through his shoulders, at what they have been through.